the beauty that comes
from that little black pen
of yours
is more than what will ever
come from the stars
and the moon,
or the sun
and a clear blue sky;
your mind is working
so fast
and your pen still manages
to keep up with your train of thoughts;
your words scribbled on paper
are better than any
misty lake
on a cold Sunday morning
or a silent forest
on a dark Tuesday night;
your pen carries every single
emotion
from your brain
to the paper it is dancing over;
your beauty is
written through
that little black pen
and you should never
stop writing,
even when you feel empty,
you can find something
to write about;
never
stop